


Cats, Shimada Style

by nerdy-flower (baconnegg)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, I can't explain this, I really can't explain this, It's just pet shenanigans all the way down, It's safe here, Just enjoy the kittens, Multi, No mysterious past, Not in an anthro way, Nothing to see here, Pets, Read this if you need some nice minty lipbalm for your brain, Taeko and Sojiro are just nice idle wealthy types, They're just housecats, festive nonsense, possums, they're cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/nerdy-flower
Summary: The Shimadas are the proud owners of two spoiled, well-bred Japanese Bobtails and are enjoying a relaxing life in the countryside, until their boys find more than they bargained for in the backyard.
Relationships: Genji & Hanzo Shimada's Mother/Sojiro Shimada, Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Tekhartha Mondatta/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas gift and co-creation with my coolest cat Kiki <3 I'm sorry and also you're welcome :D

_As far back as the Shimada family could be traced, so too could the lineage of their prized, purebred Japanese Bobtails. Once mighty rat-catchers, now treasured as movable pieces of contemporary art with prestigious awards to match. When the last of the Shimada line crossed the ocean to start anew, their companions went with them..._

“Hello, dear one,” Taeko hums as four, near-silent paws leap onto the wicker table beside her chaise lounge. As her long red nails dig into the black patch covering his left shoulder, Hanzo begins to purr. “Chasing the birds again?” 

_“Mrao,”_ Hanzo answers, stretching his broad body across the glass tabletop and closing his eyes in the bright afternoon sun. 

The patio door slides open behind Taeko and a calico blur rushes past into their ample yard, disappearing amongst the rosebushes where the crickets and butterflies hide. “Back so soon?” 

“The female seemed to like him,” Sojiro replies with a smile, greeting Hanzo with a scritch on the head. He sinks into the opposite lounge and breathes a little sigh, jacket gone and shirt cuffed to the elbows. His tattoo almost gleams with a thin veneer of sweat as he interlocks his fingers on his chest. “I'll head back over in a day or two, we settled on eight hundred for this session and the next.” 

“Well done.” Taeko takes a long sip of her ice water, flicking to the next page in her book. “Hopefully it's a small litter, that queen looked a bit under-sized to me.” 

“She looked average size in person- Genji!” Sojiro lifts his head, eyes fixed on where their younger cat hunts along the tall fence. “Away from there!” 

Genji answers with a defiant _“RAO,”_ and pauses his pursuit to lick himself. 

“He can't get out, the contractors assured me.” 

“I know, but I worry.” Sojiro quietly clicks his tongue, settling back in his chair. “I keep hearing about coyotes turning up on people's porches.” 

“I think they only come out at night.” Taeko reaches over to stroke the softness of Hanzo's exposed white belly. “Besides, what kind of life would they have, stuck in the house all the time?” 

“They'll have to get used to it in the winter.” Sojiro smiles again as Genji gallops back onto the deck, stopping to bat at a thread dangling from his slipper. “At least you'll get out to the groomer, hm? We'll need to get you show-ready- what did I say?” 

Taeko chuckles as Hanzo abruptly excuses himself and trots over to the far deck railing to look over his verdant kingdom, Genji following shortly behind. “It's their second-least favourite word, you have to spell it.” 

“Right.” Sojiro rests his rough hand on the warmth of his wife's arm, letting his eyes fall shut. “But then what if they learn to spell?” 

Hanzo had won many more championships than Genji, but Genji was a favourite amongst breeders back in Hanamura and in their new home. Many a kitten inherited the tri-coloured patches on his head or his playful nature. Hanzo was much more standoffish with female companions, but absolute perfection in the ring. Sleek, well-behaved, and at ease with all the commotion and attention. He even appeared to enjoy posing for photographers. 

But unlike so many studs, their lives are mostly indistinguishable from the average housecat. They start and end their days at the foot of the Shimadas' bed, each with their own well-guarded spots. They scratch their posts into shreds, knock toys into inexplicable corners, and chase each other through the winding halls, as exceptionally loved as they are exceptionally spoiled. 

“Here you are.” Sojiro sets down a bowl of fresh white rice and chopped chicken breast on either side of the ever-humming water fountain. “Ah- never mind what Genji's eating, eyes on your own food.” 

Hanzo reluctantly nibbles at his dish while Genji scarfs his down. The pair of them are like an old man and a kitten, despite being littermates in the prime of their life. 

“I would ask Dr. Ziegler to check you for a tapeworm, if not for this, hm?” Sojiro gently prods the side-bulge of Genji's belly, only warranting a brief pause in his chewing and lip-smacking. “Not exactly starving, are you?” 

He talks to them more often than a sane man should, with Taeko gone off to work for the day. They are good listeners, at least. Cocking their heads and periodically chirping a response. The shuttering of old affairs and moving to a foreign countryside had left them- well, not lonely. They had each other, after all. But despite their best efforts, little was familiar. A year gone by in their new home and he still fumbles to find the lightswitches. 

He ought to get started on grading the stack of student artwork in his upstairs studio, but opts to watch a little television first. Sipping a hot mug of tea within the warm press of two agreeable creatures, one on his lap and one beside, who could deny themselves such a pleasure? 

Hanzo rests merely a few minutes before getting up and scratching at the patio door, yowling low. “What? I thought you liked mysteries.” 

Hanzo yowls again, nails digging more frantically into the uncaring glass. Reluctantly, Sojiro displaces Genji and gets up to let him out. He's been so insistent about going out lately, disappearing into their well-groomed garden for hours if they let him. He hasn't picked up any ticks, at least, but it's still peculiar. He hadn't been well after the lengthy plane rides, Sojiro hopes it isn't a permanent behaviour change. 

“No, Genji! That's paint water.” He nudges the cat's cold, wet nose away, only for him to push his head forward for another lap. Sojiro sighs and picks the glass up, placing it on a nearby bookshelf. “Does it taste like something you should be drinking?” 

_“Mrrp.”_ Genji blinks back at him, unphased. Sojiro sighs and returns to painting slender drops of rain. Nothing especially original in this one, but perhaps an example piece for his students. Plein air was cancelled this week due to forecasted thunderstorms, so he'll have to figure out an indoor exercise- 

Another charming chirp, and the polite pat of a paw on his arm. He glances back, finding two wide brown eyes peering up at him, an orange paw outstretched for another gentle tap. “Ah, should we finish for today then, little sparrow?” 

Genji plants both paws on Sojiro's stomach and meows again, getting scooped into his arms as he wishes. Genji is always more than happy to be carried any which way, as long as it's not into his carrier or the laundry room when they have workers come to spruce up the aging Victorian-style house. 

“Welcome home,” Sojiro kisses into his wife's cheek, receiving another as Genji bats at her for yet more attention. “How was work?” 

“Full of meetings that could have been emails,” she rolls her intense eyes, crinkled at the corners and outlined flawlessly in makeup. “Where's Hanzo? He didn't come to sniff my shoes.” 

“I let him in at lunch, he must be-” Sojiro's eyes land on his broad form at the shut patio door, tail flicking impatiently. “In one of your moods again, are we?” 

Hanzo continues staring outside, eyebrow-patches furrowed. 

“I know what will get his attention.” Taeko sets her purse down on the kitchen island and retrieves the container of treats from the highest shelf, shaking it. Both cats seem to teleport to her feet, Sojiro's arms not yet uncrossed before Genji is giving a paw in desperation for yet more food. “Good boy. Now Hanzo, up!” 

Hanzo sits back perfunctorily on his haunches, taking the treat between his sharp front teeth and dashing over to the door to yowl again. Perplexed, Sojiro lets him out and watches him disappear down the steps. “That's odd.” 

“Very odd.” Taeko shuffles up beside him, arms crossed. “You don't think it's a brain tumour?” 

“It couldn't be, there hasn't been cancer in the line for ten generations.” 

“But there's a first for everything.” Taeko frowns, thin lips disappearing into a line. “Where's he going, anyway? He hasn't been using the litterbox as much, he could have kidney problems.” 

Cats do hide when in pain, Sojiro thinks dishearteningly as he thrusts the door all the way open, stepping out and seeing nothing but wilting summer grass and the long shadows of their apple trees. “Where did-” 

“Shhh,” Taeko hissing, pressing a finger to his lips. “Do you hear that?” 

They stay entirely still for a moment, not even breathing, and listen. It takes a moment to register, but up floats the definite sound of squeaking from beneath their feet. 

A phone flashlight and some indelicate crouching reveals the source- a little of impossibly tiny kittens suckling at the belly of the shaggiest stray cat they have ever seen. Pale brown with hazel eyes peering back, contrasting the white of Hanzo's coat as he sits comfortably beside them as though nothing at all is wrong. 

“How did it get in?” Taeko huffs in a mix of confusion, frustration, and mild panic. “How long has it been here? Why did it- Those are Hanzo's kittens, aren't they?” 

“They must be, though I'm surprised he's allowed so close.” Sojiro grunts as his knee cracks audibly. “Should we call animal control?” 

“It's past five, they probably won't come until tomorrow.” Taeko pushes her long hair out of her face. “And it's supposed to start raining tonight. We can't leave them out here.” 

Sojiro nods, knowing what must be done, and holds out his fist. “I'll janken you for it.” 

A pair of thick garden gloves and an empty orange box later, Sojiro belatedly recalls that his wife always wins at janken. 

“Grab the kittens first, they'll follow you out!” Taeko calls, holding the flashlight as steadily as she can manage, tugging her pencil skirt away from the grass and grit beneath her knees. 

“I don't know if that's the best course of action!” Sojiro calls back, crawling across concrete like a wounded animal. Nonetheless, he brings the orange crate forward as he reaches the mismatched family. “Good evening, I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't scratch my eyes out.” 

The stray stares back at him blithely, unreadable but not aggressive. Hanzo offers no help or even approaches him, sitting dutifully at his apparent mate's side. With great trepidation, Sojiro carefully grasps one squalling kitten, and then another, until the box holds all five. The parents follow him out, crying after the babies, but make no swipes at him, thank god. Backwards crawling isn't exactly a speedy endeavour. 

It's all a bit of a rush after that. Sojiro lures the stray and Hanzo into the laundry room while barely managing to keep Genji at bay with his foot. Taeko ransacks their basement storage closet for a suitable box and an old blanket or two. At last, the stray and their kittens are comfortably contained, feeding and resting without a care in the world. 

“Look at the fleas.” Taeko cringes, pulling back the long hair of the oddly-amiable stray, receiving a few licks to her hand. “And the mats! There's no way it has a home, I'm surprised it isn't feral.” 

“They're only a few days old- look, they still have their umbilical cords attached.” Sojiro turns one over in his hand, revealing a full and healthy-looking belly. It's impossible not to be endeared by the soft, small babies with closed eyes and ears, pink mouths giving voice to loud lungs, and fat, stubby tails curled between their legs. The stray reaches a paw up, curling it around their baby and cries until Sojiro returns it to the milk bar. 

“I wish you could talk, you would have a lot of explaining to do,” Taeko scolds Hanzo without any real malice, reaching out to stroke the kittens. “I'm calling the vet first thing in the morning. Who knows if they're sick, look at how small that one is.” 

Curled under the stray's thigh is a runt, half the size of the others with a coat so thin it looks half-naked. A twinge in the chest clamps onto both of them at the sight. “It seems to be eating well enough, there's nothing else to do but wait.” 

“I suppose.” Taeko stands stiffly, brushing fur from her knees. There's a second litter box in the basement, so closing one for the evening won't be a problem. Hanzo's interest in the bowl of canned soft food is, however, and gets him roughly scooped off his feet. “None for you, you're grounded.” 

“Takeout?” Sojiro offers as they shut the door. 

“Please,” Taeko sighs, scratching under Hanzo's chin. “I'm going to send a stern email to that contracting company.” 

Hanzo is not at all chastened, leaping from Taeko's arms and planting himself in front of the laundry door. No amount of increasingly firm, raspy calls of “Hanzo, _enough!”_ persuades him to stop. Halfway through their pad thai, a consensus is reached that they'll have to give flea medicine to Hanzo anyways, so they might as well let him in. 

His persistence is rewarded in the morning with a carrier ride to Dr. Ziegler's practice in town, though he seems unpeturbed. Settling in beside the laid-back brown moggie and their brood, not so much as a mew is heard the whole drive there. 

A thorough exam requires the shaving of the stray's dirty, hopelessly-tangled hair, so the Shimadas leave the cats in Angela's excellent care and see themselves to the ice cream stand next door. They swing their legs beneath a chipped picnic bench as they try to keep their cones from melting in the summer heat. “So, no microchip.” 

“I figured as much, I haven't heard it meow.” Taeko swipes a napkin across her chin and takes another bite. “I wonder if we could sell the kittens when they're old enough? There's a lot of demand for mixed-breeds now.” 

“Yes, Bobtail mixed with Persian, tabby, god knows what else.” Sojiro laughs low. “Though we may have to pry them away from Hanzo.” 

“You're right.” Taeko's red lips alight on a brief smile. “I haven't seen him act like this since he was a kitten. He's still young, but he doesn't seem to get excited about much anymore.” 

“Indeed.” Sojiro chews thoughtfully on a frozen chocolate chunk. “So, what should we name it?” 

“Oh, I'm terrible with names. Moggie?” 

“That would be like calling a dog 'Mutt,' it's rude.” Sojiro drums his fingers, recalling the cat's bow-legged saunter as it followed him out from under the deck. “What about Jesse, like the outlaw?” 

“Jesse?” Taeko snickers, trying it out on her tongue. “Hm, well, we'll have to see if it sticks.” 

“The tests came back negative for everything but fleas.” Angela hands a bag of medications over, Hanzo still resting on her arm as comfortably as he would a window ledge. “But we'll deworm them all the same. Otherwise, all healthy!” 

“What about the runt?” 

“Just make sure he isn't getting pushed off the nipple by the other ones.” Dr. Ziegler reaches into the carrier to stroke the cotton-soft backs of hungry kittens. Jesse sits pressed against the back of the carrier, shaved almost-bald and glowering. “We can supplement if he doesn't start gaining weight.” 

The adult cats are significantly mouthier on the way back. Taeko spends most of the drive reaching awkwardly into the back seat to drum soothingly on the carriers screens. “It's alright Jesse, we're almost home.” 

Jesse seems to sulk the rest of the day, flicking their tail endlessly and looking gravely offended. His fluffy head on his fuzzy, lanky body does make for a comical image, even if he doesn't appreciate it. Hanzo is more interested in grooming his mate than anything else, daring to hiss at Taeko when she approaches with a tube of dewormer. “It'll grow back, and we'll brush it, and you'll both like it. Understood?” 

Hanzo's ears remain flat and he stays glued in place, unwilling to let anyone touch his beautiful Jesse ever again. 

“Bedtime, Genji.” Sojiro stoops to pluck Genji up from his curious post at the laundry room door. “You'll get to play uncle soon enough. I bet you'll like that, won't you? You've never gotten to meet your own kittens.” 

Genji purrs, enjoying a behind-the-ear scratch. He sleeps cozied behind Sojiro's knees, paws twitching as he dreams of the secret hole under the fence. 

“Taeko! Come look at this!” 

Taeko turns off her favourite stovetop burner (lower right, no particular reason) and dashes down the hall into the laundry room. Sojiro sits cross-legged on the floor, the food he delivered already half-eaten, with a chubby kitten clasped in his hands. “Look!” 

As she draws near, the kitten lifts its wobbly head at the noise, revealing one black eye peeping open. “Oh, how precious.” 

Sojiro beams with paternal pride. “They're growing so fast, I can't believe it!” 

Indeed, as Jesse's wavy brown coat grows back in, the kittens' blotchy paws get fluffier and stronger. Useful for more than accidentally clobbering each other as they tumble around the box. They crawl before they walk, teetering like chameleons on a branch before tumbling over, mewing in mild distress. Hanzo watches over them nigh-constantly and is as often found cuddling or washing them as he is cuddling or washing Jesse. 

Koichi is named first, the runt of the litter. Soft and sweet, patterned like Hanzo but with the long, almost curly fur of Jesse, especially on his tiny bobbed tail. Forever tucked under Jesse's chin, one long, loving paw thrown over him like a human parent would with their baby. Sojiro catches Taeko once with Koichi cradled against her cheek, until she notices her husband and flushes. “I had a long day.” 

He kindly shakes his head. “No need, I was doing the same thing yesterday.” 

The only other bobtail in the litter is Cornchip, named for her colouring. Sleek-coated like Hanzo, but fluffy in her cheeks. She makes multiple attempts to escape the box, thwarted by Jesse pulling her in for her hourly bath or Hanzo knocking her over when he jumps in. At last, with all the strength of her needle-thin claws, she hauls herself up and over the edge while Sojiro is cleaning the litterbox. Bellyflopping onto the throw rug, she promptly begins to cry until Jesse abandons their second lunch to collect her. 

Pear is named for her shape, the first to understand the purpose of the pablum presented to them. She eats a bare spot into the mush while the others walk through it, lifting her still-unsteady head to reveal chin and whiskers drenched in the stuff. Her brother Hiro is the last to get it, even when some pablum is dotted on his nose, he seems more interested in staring at it than licking it. Aside from a long, bushy tail, he's the very picture of the Shimada line and as playful as his uncle Genji. 

Yasu is the funniest of the bunch, unintentionally. An absolute fluffball with a permanent pout and seemingly scowling eyes. Dr. Ziegler seems unconcerned and entertained at their first round of shots, dismissing it as a quirk of appearance as the rest of the kittens crawl over her shoulders and cuddle into her chest. But his personality seems to match the grumpier side of Hanzo's, being more solitary and the first to hiss- or rather, not-hiss and puff up as big as possible to look intimidating. 

“You know,” Sojiro starts, peering over the baby gate they installed to block off a section of the back hallway for the kittens. “If you keep tormenting them, they might not like you as much.” 

“I know,” Taeko says, while still creeping up behind an unsuspecting kitten, her hand like a spider ready to startle them. “It's just so cute!” 

Taking down the gate once they start climbing it is an inevitable, yet fatal decision. Soon they're blocking off corners of their house they forgot existed, coating wires in foil and foul-smelling athletic cream, and not daring to go to the toilet without turning on the light or putting the lid down afterwards. 

“I can only assume this is what it's like to have a baby.” Taeko fastens a child-lock onto the last kitchen cupboard and stands up, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. “And I'm so glad we never had a baby.” 

“I couldn't agree more,” Sojiro replies from the couch, his water glass long-empty because Genji had fallen asleep curled up on his chest. 

And Genji? Oh, if Hanzo was acting slightly kitten-ish, Genji had full-on regressed. He chases the kittens through the house, up and down the stairs no matter the hour, and after anything that rolls or crawls across the floor. The chaos rarely pauses and simply becomes the new background noise of their formerly too-empty house. Jesse intervenes if things escalate, scruffing a kitten in their teeth and toddling off for a snuggle. 

Hanzo takes more of a lion approach to fatherhood, tongue-bathing his kittens whether they want it or not, and allowing them to crawl all over him like a piece of playground equipment. They chomp his ears, dig their claws into his back, and sit on his head without a second thought. Rather than his usual defiant swipes, he at most puts a paw on their heads and very gently pushes them off. When they immediately clamber back up, planting claws into his face, he shuts his eyes in acceptance. 

“You're so patient with them,” Sojiro remarks, petting Hanzo's sleepy head as he naps on his studio table, seeking a momentary reprieve from the nonsense underfoot. “It's so nice that you finally get to be a father, after all the children you've helped bring into this world.” 

Hanzo purrs, sounding thoroughly content. 

As the summer wanes, the struggle of keeping the kittens indoors prohibits many of the adult cats' usual outings. But a few times a week, they manage to herd the kittens away from the door long enough to get the adult cats, wine, and stemware outside. 

“Happy anniversary, my love.” Sojiro drops a kiss onto Taeko's shoulder, bared by her stylish black sundress, as he affixes the necklace clasp. “I don't know how I ever got on without you.” 

“You sweet man.” Taeko's smile curls around her words as she turns, ruby pendant clasped in one hand and the other on her husband's bearded cheek. “I very specifically said no gifts.” 

“And I very specifically chose to ignore that.” Their laughter buzzes between their lips, Sojiro easing himself back and making room for Taeko to lay beside him, half-sprawled against his side. The weather has been phenomenal, humidity whisked away by pleasantly-cool winds and the air warmed by sunshine alone. Perfect weather to take a week off of all responsibilities and uncork the finest vintage on their rack. 

The two of them drowse in the balmy afternoon air for some time, at peace, until Taeko hears quick paws coming up the deck stairs and peeps her eyes open. “Genji, what do you have?” 

_“Mrao?”_ Genji turns, big blank eyes wide as always, and in his jaws not a moth or even a bird, but a kitten much younger than those inside. 

“Genji, where on _Earth-?!”_

The tail indicates that one of the boys must be the sire (most likely Genji, as Hanzo is more inclined towards indoor fatherhood than outdoor adventures of late), and since their nearest neighbour is a small cottage up the hill, there's only one course of action. 

“I should have changed,” Sojiro murmurs, trying to tug his three-quarter length sleeves over his tattoo. 

“No one here cares about things like that.” Taeko cradles the washcloth-wrapped kitten closer to her chest, ringing the doorbell and sending a dog barking somewhere inside, followed by footsteps. 

“Bastion, settle down, please- ah, hello!” A handsome bald man of indeterminable age bearing a geometric forehead tattoo and a beatific smile answers the door. “You live down the road, don't you? My name is Mondatta, a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Ours as well, I'm so sorry for not introducing ourselves previously, but- does this belong to you?” Taeko asks in a rush, thrusting the mewling kitten forward. 

“Oh goodness, I didn't even realize he was gone!” Mondatta quickly takes the kitten, cradling it against the faded college logo on his T-shirt. The dog takes the opportunity to thrust himself forward and eagerly sniff Taeko's hand. “Ah- he's very friendly, not to worry. Still has some of that puppy energy, it seems. Where did you find this one?” 

“One of our cats kidnapped him,” Taeko admits, struggling to maintain an appropriate expression of shame and neighbourliness. “And possibly fathered him.” 

“So we also brought child support.” Sojiro lifts his chequebook, inclining his head slightly. “Any amount, we'd be happy to provide.” 

“Oh, my. The calico cat is yours?” A petite mew sounds behind him and he steps back, revealing a slender Himalyan with sleepy eyes and an almost-smiling mouth. “Here you are, Zenyatta, take Oingo back to bed.” 

As if understanding the instructions perfectly, the cat politely steps forward and scruffs the kitten as if taking a bag of groceries and trots off out of sight. Mondatta stands up, looking amused. “I thought he belonged to someone, but he's never let me get close enough to see if he had a collar. To tell the truth, he's snuck into our house more than a few times and we're still not clear on how he's getting in.” 

“Yes, that's our Genji,” Sojiro grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Deadbeat father and escape artist. We sincerely apologize, we had no idea he was getting off our property-” 

A deep, German-accented voice calls from inside. “Who is it, liebling? Is Ana here already?” 

“Ah, no, dear. It's the neighbours.” 

“Oh, how wonderful! They should join us for dinner!” 

“Maybe another time.” Mondatta clears his throat audibly as the enormous, white-haired man sticks a hand over his shoulder and shakes each of the Shimada's hands with a strength that nearly dislocates their shoulders. He introduces himself as Wilhelm Reinhardt and heads up the stairs beside the front door, clad only in a towel that just barely manages to keep things PG. 

With deep brown cheeks flushed, Mondatta continues. “Thank you so kindly for returning him. I think we really must arrange a visit and perhaps, formally introduce our animal friends? He's been so sweet with my Zenyatta, they're very friendly with each other.” 

“Oh, that sounds lovely. We-” 

“Excellent! Take this, my contact information is all here.” Mondatta passes a business card from a small table beside the door along with their washcloth. “Please give me a call anytime, I just have to get dinner started, you see.” 

“Of course-” 

“Yes, we understand-” 

“Great! Have a good evening, then!” Mondatta politely but swiftly closes the door once they finish tripping over their words. The card he had handed them displays a simple white and gold background, proclaiming him a yoga and meditation instructor. 

The Shimadas are quiet as they climb back into their Fiat and turn onto the winding country road. Sojiro breaks the silence first. “Did you happen to see a ring on either of their hands?” 

“Yes, I didn't get a good look, but I think they're at least engaged.” 

Sojiro hums, eyes fixed out the window. “Impressive.” 

“Quite.” 

They arrive home in moments, the mood interrupted but not entirely spoiled. Without speaking, they both envision a hot bath in their near future. No sooner do they shut and lock the front door than are they surrounded by a chorus of enthusiastic _mius._ Kittens pawing at their ankles, Genji wondering aloud where they had to rush off to so suddenly, and Hanzo and Jesse pushing their faces into their calves, looking for food. An entire chorus of four-legged creatures who are delighted to see them after an entire fifteen minutes. 

“You know,” Taeko muses later, slumped against the side of their large clawfoot tub with a wine glass dangling from her fingers. “Maybe we should keep the kittens, after all.” 

“All of them?” Sojiro asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. He combs through Taeko's freshly-washed hair with his fingers, separating it on her bare back to start braiding it. 

“Well, I mean, we already named them.” Taeko chuckles softly, swishing the last slug of wine around her glass and sinking deeper in the steamy water. “Besides, they'll grow out of the naughty phase soon enough.” 

“True.” Sojiro nods, wet strands of silvery-black hair slipping between his fingers. “I also think-” His train of thought is interrupted by the bathroom door popping open, revealing half a dozen glowing pairs of eyes in the hallway. “Did you shut that all the way?” 

“Maybe I didn't, or maybe they've learned how to open doorknobs.” Taeko peers down at the curious little faces staring up at them and hopelessly trying to climb the porcelain. The warmth of the water seeps into her chest. “Either way, it's their house now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could try to explain how this came about but Hal, it's about cats. Nothing more, nothing less. Hope you enjoyed, happy holidays!


	2. The KitKottening

“Oh, they're so soft,” Taeko coos with a near-catch in her throat as she strokes the two impossibly soft newborn kittens. Zenyatta purrs, as content as a statue with their almost-smile. “Is Zenyatta a Himalayan?” 

“We think so. We adopted Zen from a shelter so we can't be a hundred percent sure.” Mondatta bends to hand Taeko her cup of tea, almost spilling it when Genji snakes between his legs to deftly leap into the box and passionately groom Zenyatta. “I'm glad we know more about Genji now, we were just calling him 'the outside cat' before. Everything considered, I find it hard to regret not getting Zen fixed sooner.” 

The Shimadas walk back home slowly, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun beyond the hill and the way their arms hook together as they trace the edge of the lonely back road. “We should probably give Dr. Ziegler a call tomorrow. If we wait too long, we might end up with a second litter.” 

“Or having to separate them.” Sojiro shakes his head, rubbing one temple. “We would have to rent a room somewhere, I couldn't handle that much yowling.” 

“Me neither- ah, ah, Genji. Relax.” Taeko releases her husband's arm to keep the wriggling cat from clambering over her shoulder. “You can see Zen tomorrow, he isn't going anywhere.” 

Genji keeps his claws hooked into the back of Taeko's sundress and lets out a single, piteous _“Raooooo.”_

“Poor thing.” Sojiro reaches over to scratch under Genji's chin, feigning a pout at the sight of his round, pathetic brown eyes. “It's hard being in love, isn't it?” 

“I'm sure he'll cope.” Taeko chuckles as the cat revels in the slightest attention. “Probably by eating all the kitten food again.” 

There is a level of unspoken routine achievable in marriage that both of them relish immensely. Perhaps their younger selves would be disappointed by sashimi every Friday or the automatic relief of starting a load of laundry as soon as the clock clicks to seven and electricity is at its cheapest, but their younger selves had their own questionable pleasures too, so who's to judge? 

“What's this, hm?” Taeko plucks an empty toilet roll from between Hanzo's paws. He “mrrs” in annoyance, but makes no effort to get out of the small, plush bed they placed atop the dryer when they gave up on trying to get him to nap elsewhere. “All these nice toys, and you only want to play with trash.” 

“Mrr,” Hanzo insists, batting at the half-squashed cardboard until Taeko lets him have it. He clamps his fangs into it, kicks it a few times with his back paws, and then simply lays there, unwilling to relinquish his prized possession for anyone. 

“You're a strange one, Hanyan,” she croons, smoothing back his fur and starting the washer. Jesse trots into the laundry room, a limp kitten in his mouth as he makes a beeline for the box. “You can't carry them around forever, Jesse. They're getting too big for that now.” 

A “mrao” is her only answer, aimed more at the kitten they're intently grooming than her. She might have left Jesse to it, but supper sounds far from done, so she reaches in to scoop up the spoiled kitten instead. The spoiled, palm-sized kitten with a long naked tail, grey fur, all-black eyes, and a pointed, toothful snout- 

_“Sojiro!”_

Taeko fills another wine glass as Sojiro hangs up with a sigh. “The wildlife rehab centre is full, I guess there's been a lot of mothers hit by cars this year. They're emailing me instructions on how to bottle-feed.” 

“We cannot have a possum.” Taeko says flatly around the rim of her glass. “Eight cats is eccentric, eight cats and a wild animal is insanity.” 

“Well, it's only temporary. We can't just leave him outside to-” Sojiro drops off, watching Jesse gallop through the living room with the barely five-inch-long baby clinging to his well-brushed fur. Genji scampers along behind him, desperately angling for a sniff of the new addition. “Leave them alone, you're scaring the poor thing!” 

They debate and Google long into the evening, taking into account both the safety and potential threat of the half-grown kittens, the risks to Jesse and of an extended nursing period, and a brief glance at the grey legalities of the whole conundrum. Taeko is left both committed to raising the possum to adulthood so that it might be spared an early end and unconvinced of their own rationality. 

Somehow, within mere days, the baby possum is named Sprinkles. 

While autumn scents the breeze and soaks the dry grasses, the preexisting kittens grow halfway to adulthood. Pear and Hiro are skittering and sliding down the upstairs hall at any hour, leaving chaos and tufts of fur in their wake. A series of plastic tunnels are purchased to divert their interest downstairs, but Hanzo spends the most time in them, gently and not-so-gently wrestling Jesse and Genji for domination of the cylindrical territories. 

The literal task of herding cats proves to be more a mad scramble than actual shepherding. Jesse and Hanzo are shut away with Sprinkles and Genji is left to babysit the kittens in the downstairs bathroom while a repairman attends to their failing fridge. A quick fix, no more than half an hour, and yet the kittens and their uncle manage to coat every surface of the bathroom with a blizzard of shredded toilet paper. They stare up in convincing innocence, shreds of white caught between their claws and teeth, a wastebasket tipped over for good measure. 

Koichi remains the sweet baby of the family, still smaller than the others even as his adult coat comes in. He takes turns sleeping on Taeko and Sojiro's pillows, nibbling on their hair and pressing his forehead against any part of their bodies he can reach. He snoozes while the others stand with their full weight on the Shimadas' chests and mew until they are fed. 

Yasu continues to take the most after their dear Hanzo. Rather than struggling against and biting at the adorable bat wings Sojiro purchases for the entire mismatched family for Halloween, he sits perfectly loafed on the table where he was left. Scowling and flicking his tail all while Sojiro tries to get the other's wings to stay on long enough to get a single photo. 

Cornchip, on the other hand, is a perfect copy of her uncle as a kitten. The only one to venture all the way up the living room curtains by strength of claws alone, half the reason they put lids on all the waste receptacles, and the child most likely to be forcefully pinned down by her father and given a head-to-tail bath while she wails, craving more nonsense. 

Sprinkles is- well, they aren't entirely sure how a normal possum is supposed to act but he seems healthy and has an ugly-cute quality that can't be denied. Taeko quietly purchases a cloud plan rather than delete any of her dozens of photos of Sprinkles riding Jesse's back like a tiny frightened cowboy. Handling can't be avoided with the rounds of feeding, and there's a primal sweetness in keeping this reserved little fluffball alive. 

“I wonder what Jesse thinks he is,” Sojiro muses aloud, on the tail end of a snorting fit after the pair strolled past the television during a particularly dramatic silent moment in the one more episode they're watching before bed. “Is the oxytocin so strong that cats will just mother anything they come across?” 

“Mondatta sent me an article about house cats kidnapping stray kittens, so maybe?” Taeko chews thoughtfully on a half-popped popcorn kernel. “They must be able to sense that he's a different species, right?” 

“Perhaps, or through sheer optimism, Jesse thinks he's found an unusual-looking and clingy kitten.” 

“That's an enviable quality, don't be rude.” 

Winter encroaches as Sprinkles grows longer in the tooth, and worries over his ability to hibernate quietly condemn him to a domesticated life. Unknowing of the world beyond the gardens, the possum seems quite content. Playful with his adopted siblings and invested in crawling everywhere he can reach, he only objects to being picked up with a growl that “sounds like the bowels of Hell opening up,” according to Sojiro. 

The family lays in on a cool Sunday, nowhere to be but with each other and the nine creatures permitted in their bedroom. Tucked behind their knees, crowding onto their pillows, and clinging to each other as the two former do, turning gently away as sunshine moves across the bed. None among them would rather be anywhere else. 

*** 

Down the road and up the hill, Zen perks up their fluffy head at the clink of dishes in Mondatta's hands. Standing, with Oingo and Boingo still greedily nursing away, Zen leaps- knocking both kittens against the side of the box, dropping the former inside and the latter outside in two mewling heaps. 

“Zenyatta!” Mondatta tuts, using the cat's full name as if it makes a difference. He scoops up Boingo as he squalls, cradling him in his hands and stroking his cold nose with his thumb. “I know they're demanding, but you could stand to be a little gentler.” 

“Mrrp?” Zen replies, silver-threaded ears twitching as he laps at the bounty of soft food. The kittens are four weeks old now, able to stumble around the box but not yet adept at climbing, and still very much in need of constant care. Mondatta supposes he can't begrudge his beloved companion making the most of their brief reprieve. 

The steady _tickatickaticka_ of Bastion's massive paws sounds behind him, but the ones that reach him first are the near-silent toes of the kitten's father. Raising himself up on Mondatta's bended knee, he sniffs and gently grooms Boingo's patchy head while Bastion just as eagerly sniffs his behind. 

“It's always good to see you, Genji.” Mondatta snickers, placing Boingo back in with his brother and scratching Bastion's floppy black ears as he stands, the neighbour cat going to join his beloved at the food dishes. “But I wish you would tell me how you keep getting into my house.” 

Genji offers no answers, only plaintive mews as he follows Mondatta to the kitchen, increasing in intensity as jars and cans are opened. “Now, I don't wish to body-shame you.” He prods at the content bulge of Genji's stomach where it rests against the counter. “But I think you've had lunch twice already.” 

Genji chirps, then sits erect like a dog when the front door opens. Bastion _boofs_ a few times, encouraged by Reinhardt's booming affection and slaps to his thighs. “Ah, something smells good!” 

“You've arrived just in time.” Mondatta smiles, quickly ensconced in his husband's massive arms. No one else ever managed to make him feel small until Reinhardt, and he never expected to like it. “I made dahl soup, I thought you might be chilly out there today.” 

“Oh, it's not so cold, but I would never pass up your cooking.” Reinhardt covers his cheeks in beardy kisses, lingering against Mondatta's tattooed forehead. “Hm, looks like you'll have to make some more tea.” 

“I just poured-” Mondatta turns his head and finds Genji dunking one paw repeatedly in Mondatta's favourite orange mug before bringing it to his mouth to lick it. His eyes slowly close, sated by his theft. “Oh, for heaven's sakes.” 

Reinhardt laughs, splendid and deep. “I'll have to buy you one with a lid, it won't be long before the little ones are trying that!” 

Those words prove unfortunately prophetic. Oingo and Boingo gain mastery of their limbs in only a matter of days. They figure out how to retract their claws so that they might climb synchronously out of the box to wreak havoc upon everything the sun touches. Anything small must be put away, or it will end up under the couch. Anything beloved and fragile must be kept behind glass, and then locked away when the pair figure out how to paw open cupboard doors. 

“Do you ever run out of energy?” Mondatta asks semi-wearily, brushing his teeth while Oingo bats at the dripping faucet and Boingo slapshots a jingle ball in behind the laundry basket. 

They arrange play-dates with the neighbours as the air turns colder and backyard adventures aren't as viable for the smaller family members or their furless human caretakers. A baker's dozen of animals in a single house brings a certain blend of wholesome chaos that is actually quite enjoyable. Even in their pumpkin Halloween costumes, the kittens are utterly uninhibited while playing with their older cousins. 

“It's so nice that they all get along,” Sojiro remarks as they all sip green tea in the Shimadas' stylish living room. “Our kittens can get a bit rough when they play-fight, I was worried they might- oh no, someone's been left behind.” 

The others follow his gaze to the base of the stairs, where Oingo cries while Koichi, Cornchip, and Hiro race boldly up the steps. Bastion approaches with his usual intensity, never far from his smaller friends' sides. “No, leave him alone. He won't learn if you always help him.” 

Bastion doesn't heed Mondatta's words, taking the whole of Oingo's slender body in his teeth with a tentativeness seen more often in art conservators than mutts. Head hung low, he carefully mounts the staircase one paw at a time until he can be heard thundering after the kittens upstairs. “Oh dear, I can go get him.” 

“Not to worry,” Taeko waves a hand, the other intently stroking the tired-looking Hanzo curled on her lap. “Everything important is either nailed down or put away.” 

Sojiro nods from the kitchen. “Indeed, we learned our lesson a while-” Boingo races out across his slippered feet as he opens the fridge. “How the hell- how did he get in there? I swear, I didn't see him when I closed it!” 

Boingo is unharmed, if slightly damp, and bounds off after Genji rather than submit to everyone's bewildered inspections. Putting away groceries soon becomes a more attentive activity in both households. 

Mondatta is endlessly impressed with the warmth and kindness of their neighbours. The countryside is becoming an attractive destination for all manner of snobbish gentrifiers, but the Shimadas seem quite the opposite. They rather vigorously debate the matter of compensation when Mondatta accepts their request to house-sit (that is, cat and possum-sit), finally agreeing to donate to the local chapter of Food Not Bombs that Mondatta co-chairs, but also insisting that he help himself to anything in their kitchen. 

While Taeko and Sojiro leave very detailed instructions for their beloved pets, they neglect to specify just how secure all food items need to be at all times. Mondatta leaves a container of banana bread atop the sleek steel refrigerator and returns at night to find Sprinkles in the same spot, surrounded by shredded plastic and his toothy snout smeared with mush. 

Both the Shimadas and Dr. Ziegler are very understanding, although Sprinkles is not, hissing and growling until he's returned to Jesse's side and the attentions of his adopted siblings. Mondatta earns his forgiveness by feeding him pet store grubs while he clings precariously to the banister, his favourite napping spot. 

Mondatta isn't squeamish about the preferences of their chosen four-legged companions. He may be a lifelong vegetarian, but he is deeply aware and appreciative of the natural cycle of energy. He's actually watching a YouTube video about the fascinating diets of deep-sea ocean creatures when Boingo brings him a limp fieldmouse. Bell collars are promptly purchased. 

Oingo and Boingo learn to escape them just as promptly. They know no laws and no masters, and fear nothing but thunderstorms. 

Even those, they're not as afraid as they perhaps should be. While he's sequestered in the bedroom on an unseasonably warm day, trying to code a new page of his website, Mondatta's phone chimes with a photo of two drenched kittens, their colourful crowns darkened and their ears pressed back in fury. 

**Sojiro:** They were on the porch with Jesse and the clouds opened while I was in the restroom. I'll drive them home after I dry them off. 

Another message pops in not ten minutes later. 

**Sojiro:** Blowdrying ended poorly for all involved. I'll towel them as best I can and leave the rest to Genji. 

Mondatta pretends not to notice the tiny scratches covering Sojiro's hands when he returns the kittens later that evening, and Zen is happy to pin them down and finish the job. Zenyatta is perennially sweet, but less tolerant of nonsense than Genji, who seems entertained by his children's chomps to his ears and use of him as a trampoline. 

A wet, chilly autumn is abruptly smothered in a snowstorm that blankets everything in crunchy white. Reinhardt bundles himself in woollens and heads outside with a hefty shovel, clearing the walk and driveway with the grace of a shanty-singing bulldozer. 

Sleepy and swaddled in a thick shawl, Mondatta drapes himself across the armchair beside Zen's favourite windowsill. He watches his husband in his element, rosy-cheeked against the rising winter sun, and smiles, taking a lengthy sip of his tea and giving Zenyatta a scratch behind the ears. “Winter isn't so bad, hm? You'll be back outside before you know it.” 

“Mrrp,” Zen replies, resting comfortably with his four paws completely disappeared into the soft, creamy bounty of his fur. Oingo runs up, leaps onto the chair, and backflips off Mondatta's shoulder before tearing off after his brother. Zen watches with a quizzical expression, their heavy-lidded eyes always so curious and thoughtful. As Mondatta digs his long fingers into top of their head, their eyes slowly shut and they purr loud and deep, almost echoing in Mondatta's own throat. 

“Such a sweetheart,” Mondatta croons softly. He and Reinhardt had long ago settled on playing uncles and godfathers to the children of their chosen family. Mondatta didn't have pets growing up, only stray cats that would occasionally show some friendliness towards him on the way home from school. He was unaware of the possibility of unconditional love between two species. As much as cats are often deemed inconstant, Zenyatta has become the most consistent presence in his life. 

He relays the sequence of milestones to anyone who will listen, much like an excited parent. Their trip to the animal shelter, poking their fingers in cages until Reinhardt went _“Liebling, look at this one!”_ The car ride home when Zenyatta refused their cardboard cage and insisted on riding in Mondatta's lap. Their petite yowls periodically echoing through the Uhaul cab during their move. Zen's funny habits and sleeping positions. 

Less often does he share the moments not unlike this one, where they simply exist alongside each other. When Zenyatta has appeared to notice his sadness and pushes their body against his, when his loneliness only abates once the fluffy creature finds him and curls up at his side of their own accord. Or when Zen runs to greet him whether he's been gone all day or only taken a bath. 

Reinhardt continues merrily shovelling with Bastion leaping through the piles beside him. Zenyatta stands, stretches to the tips of their fur, and ambles down to lay on the slope of Mondatta's chest. Still purring away, a paw resting on each of his collarbones, and a peaceful, beatific expression on his angular face. Mondatta bends his head to receive a rough kiss, and then another to the tip of his nose. 

There were many more milestones to share now, but Zenyatta would always be special to him. 

The Oingo Boingo duo resemble their cousins by December, looking much more like cats than wee, round-featured kittens, but no less naughty. Reinhardt's annual festive enthusiasm must be adapted somewhat, with gates improvised as present guards and offensive scents applied to the branch tips. Weights are added to the base when they find glowing eyes staring back from the upper branches anyway. 

“You have so many things to climb!” Reinhardt gently scolds Boingo, who still fits comfortably in his broad hands and seems unperturbed by the talking-to. “Don't you know what they say about cats getting stuck in trees?” 

Mondatta opens a can while chuckling at the one-sided exchange and Boingo scrambles down to his side immediately, climbing up the fabric of his lounge pants. “No, down! Honestly, you would swear we starve you two!” 

“I bet they'll like the turkey,” Reinhardt adds, grunting as he retrieves dropped ornaments from the floor then snorting at Oingo's distinct high-pitched chirp. “Yes, even bad kits get Christmas. But if you keep this up, I'll only be giving you coal!” 

As traditions go, Christmas Eve with the Lindholms is a fine one. All the Cratchit-type delights and joyful chaos one would expect from such a large, close-knit family. As much as Mondatta enjoys it, he might have a small preference for Christmas Day. A leisurely morning spent together in pajamas, Oingo and Boingo racing through the recycled paper strewn on the floor with Bastion thundering after them, a combined streak of black, white, and orange. Zenyatta rolls about the rug before their lavishly-decorate tree, drooling all over his new catnip toy. The kitchen is just big enough for the two of them as Mondatta plays sous chef for a change. The delicious, heady heat seeping through the small house as Reinhardt lines up a selection of TV specials for them to enjoy. 

The Shimadas are invited this year, necessitating a full turkey rather than only a breast. Or rather, The Tekhartha-Wilhelms are invited to load their half of the dinner into the trunk and drive it the half-kilometre down the road because normalcy has long been forgotten and it's easier to get four pets into a car rather than eight. They wouldn't dare leave some family members out of the celebration, after all. 

Nothing brings out Reinhardt's party spirit as much as Christmas- except perhaps New Year's Eve, Lunar New Year, the Olympics, the Westminster Dog Show, and football matches regardless of whether his favourite team wins or not. Regardless, Reinhardt brings his imported beer and Sojiro brings out their imported beer and the pair of them proceed to get deliciously soused. 

“-And even though I was dressed like a tourist, the officer believed us and sent us on our way! They didn't even search our car, can you believe that?” 

Reinhardt roars and slaps the man a bit roughly on the back, hauling him into a one-armed hug. Sojiro's typically-immaculate hair has already fallen out of place, though the DiCaprio look almost works for him. “You are too much, my friend! Where were you twenty years ago? We could have had such fun together!” 

Taeko and Mondatta sit amused on the other end of the couch, picking over the remaining hors d'oeuvres. “Do you want the last slice of swiss?” Mondatta shakes his head and Taeko plucks up the triangle of cheese with her long red nails and holds it out. “Here, Jesse, before Genji gets it.” 

Jesse swaggers over, a glimmer in their pale brown eyes, and politely takes the treat from Taeko's hand. Devouring it upon the plush grey carpet, Jesse allows Koichi to sprint over and nibble up the chunks that fall from their mouth. Parenthood at its finest. 

“Does Zen try to steal human food?” 

“Only bread,” Mondatta chuckles as Zenyatta eagerly stretches up from his lap into the rhythm of Taeko's chin-scritches. “Don't ask me why, but I can't leave naan unattended or he'll drag the whole thing away.” 

“How funny!” Taeko grins wide, drawing up her laugh-lines. She has the style of Mondatta's grandmother- a dress for every occasion, this one a shimmering green. “Genji eats like a trash compactor, and then Sprinkles, of course. Jesse and the kittens are picky, but Hanzo isn't interested at all. Right, Hanzo?” 

The cat perks up at the sound of his name, stretching up to drag his claws down the glass patio door. “Rao?” 

“No, it's still winter.” 

_“Rao.”_

“This happens every year, you'll have to get used to it.” 

Hanzo flicks his tail, turning to resume his broody staring until he instead decides to tackle Jesse on their way by. Jesse is nowhere near the tunnel this time, but they both seem to enjoy it so no one intervenes. 

Bastion is occasionally alarmed by Sojiro and Reinhardt's loudness but more interested in supervising the kittens and particularly, Sprinkles. No amount of sniffing seems to satisfy him, and Sprinkles attempt to curl into the softness of his mottled flank results in a chase sequence. Thankfully nothing is broken, but Sprinkles spends the rest of the evening clinging to Jesse and Bastion hides under the dining room table with ears and tails down until he's lured out with leftover turkey. 

The Shimadas send their guests home with the garden lights left on for them, full bellies, and a box of artisanal chocolates purchased from the market that sells fresh baked goods and unpasteurized milk. Taeko leaves the dishes in the sink like the disobedient child she once was, and guides her husband up the stairs so no paws are trod upon. “So, did we have fun?” 

“I think so!” Sojiro answers gladly, cheeks still flushed. “It was nice to pretend to be twenty again.” 

Taeko smirks, sitting him on the edge of their bed and helping him out of his jacket. “When you don't get migraines, I'm sure it is.” 

“Ah, I'm sorry, love.” Sojiro's head lolls slightly to one side as she sets to work on his shirt buttons. “I was selfish again, wasn't I?” 

“No, but you are getting melancholy, which means you're sobering up.” Taeko shimmies the silk sleeves down his inked arms, tsking to herself when the cufflinks won't cooperate. “So you're going to sleep on your side of the bed and be sick in your own wastebasket if you can't make it to the toilet, understood?” 

“But I drank so much water.” Sojiro's hands catch her waist as she stands. “Wait, let me.” 

Despite his clumsy fingers, he manages the zipper, leaning forward as the dress slides to the floor and pressing his forehead to her lower back. “Ah, you're so warm.” 

Taeko's lips curl, softer this time. Sojiro is in no shape to deliver on any promises, so she silences him with a lengthy kiss instead, the tickle of Sapporo beer still warming her throat. Even when he's sober, he holds her like he's afraid she'll slip away. “Stay?” 

“I have to brush my teeth. Surely you can stay conscious for five more minutes?” Sojiro nods, head leaning heavily on her hand and eyes half-shut, pants still on. He's fast asleep, slumped into his set of pillows in the space of a makeup wipe and a rinse of mouthwash. Jesse and Hanzo curl up behind his knees, Genji squeezes onto the pillow, and the kittens and Sprinkles latch on to whatever warm spots are available. 

All much to Taeko's amusement and private photo collection, of course. 

Down the street, Mondatta finds himself tired from simply bending down to loose the cats from their crate, Bastion waiting for them before doing his usual sweep of the house. Good company, luxurious warmth, and a delicious feast have him nearly sleepwalking. 

“Come watch Muppets with me, liebling!” Reinhardt calls from his favourite spot on the couch, limbs splayed out and remote in hand. “We can't break tradition!” 

“Only if you carry me to bed, afterwards- oh, goodness.” Mondatta yawns as he tugs his scarf off. 

“You'll nap and be wide awake again by the credits, I know you.” Reinhardt teases, patting his thigh with a knowing smile. 

Mondatta can never resist him, and lays his head down in his husband's lap, stretching out his long legs while Reinhardt tugs the old knitted throw blanket over him. “Merry Christmas, my dear one.” 

“Merry Christmas!” Reinhardt barks a laugh, giddy but better at metabolizing the beer than their dear friend Sojiro. “One Christmas Carol, coming up- hm? How do I-” 

“Hit menu, and then- oh, Bastion!” Mondatta grumbles as the large dog clambers up and covers his body, laying across him like a piece of furniture and snorfing in his ear. “I'm trapped.” 

“You weren't planning on going anywhere, anyways.” Reinhardt chuckles, setting the remote aside and patting the couch arm for Zenyatta and Oingo Boingo to join them. Beneath the gentle strokes of his husband's hand across his scalp, the living room lit only by the television and familiar music, Mondatta keeps his eyes open just long enough to watch the snow begin to fall outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unnecessary PSA: Please don't take possums inside unless you're a licensed wildlife rehabilitator! This is just a very silly story! It's not that deep, bro! 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed more nonsense! This was a Christmas gift to my dear friend Kiki, and I hope all of _you_ have a safe holiday season and find some peace amongst the chaos. You got this <3 Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to one and all!

**Author's Note:**

> I could try to explain how this came about but Hal, it's about cats. Nothing more, nothing less. Hope you enjoyed, happy holidays!


End file.
